


pins and needles

by brightest_abstraction95



Category: Leverage
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I write an episode, and bullshit my way through writing about insurance companies, and do a little less bullshitting about medical information, but dont get me wrong, eliot gets kidnapped, just because i know a little more about medical stuff doesn't mean i'm not bullshitting, my MO really, original bad guy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightest_abstraction95/pseuds/brightest_abstraction95
Summary: Eliot gets injured doing recon for a job. The crew rushes him to the hospital, leaving their current mark to realize he was being conned.The mark realizes his perfect opportunity to regain some leverage is simply to steal something of theirs... namely, one hitter with a broken femur laying in a hospital bed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> y'all can stop me from writing fanfics for a show that ended years ago whenever you like. You know that, right? 
> 
> In the meantime, here's part one. Alternate title "Hal tries to write a fanfic in the format of a Leverage episode"

Eliot walked purposefully though the storage unit.

“What am I even looking for again?” He asked.

“Anything,” Hardison answered. “Mostly a literal paper trail. There are tons of holes in what I could find of his financials, which might suggest he’s done a lot in real paper money.”

Eliot rolled his eyes. “So anything.”

“Ledgers. Logs. Come on, man.” Hardison snapped.

“Alright, there you go. That, I can work with.” He peaked into a box close to him, then spotted a filing cabinet against the opposite wall. On his way over, though, he stilled.

Muffled through the metal walls of the unit, shouts were coming from the other side.

“Hold up,” He muttered. “Might have company.”

“Sorry for no heads up, man. Their camera system’s all shot to hell.” Hardison offered.

Eliot took a few long steps to the door and peaked out. Six goons. Ex cons, maybe. He thought he spotted ink on one of them. Just big meaty guys.

“Think they’re there for you?” Nate came through on the coms. If they were here for him, could mean trouble for the con.

“Headed my way, at least.” Eliot answered, and exited the unit casually. “Hey guys,” He greeted them with a guileless grin.

“You think you got any business in there?” One of them asked.

“Well sure, I -“ And then he lunged for one of them, swinging his arm to smack the guy broad way across the throat. Four others circled him. One had broken off, running - Eliot tracked him as carefully as he could, taking out the four systematically.

Two swift punches to the solar plexus of one.

A kick to the kidneys and then swipe the feet from under the next.

One takes a swing at his head, which he ducks. While that one’s off balance, Eliot takes the arm of the last one and slings the two together. Their heads collide with a crack and they go down.

Eliot pivoted and sprinted after the last guy.

As he rounded the corner, he almost ran into a forklift that the sixth guy was operating.

“Seriously? What d’you think that’s gonna do?” Eliot asked, but when he tried to move around to the side, the guy set the forklift tilting somehow. Probably swung too wide, didn’t account for the extra weight on the front.

The lift was carrying cinder blocks, and Eliot got buried. He felt them hit his skin and then he smacked the ground hard. One pinched his hand. One fell on his chest and his ribs snapped like wishbones. One landed right where his left hip jutted out. Two on top of each other fell on his thigh.

Eliot ground his teeth together and let out a strangled scream. He went as still as possible and watched the goon climb down out of the forklift, eyes wide, and take off out to the parking lot.

Everyone was talking in his ear, all high pitched and fast, and the flurry of noise in his ear matched the white noise that was started to take over his brain.

Then he blacked out.

•••

“I’ve never… Heard Eliot make a noise like that.” Parker said softly. It was just her and Hardison now. They didn’t have earbuds in or anything: it was just the two of them, sitting outside a hospital room.

Hardison couldn’t think of anything to say that might comfort her. “Yeah,” He finally said.

“It’s been too long.” She kept talking. “Why can’t we stay with him?”

“It’s been a long time,” He agreed. 

It’d been a day and a half, easy, since they had found Eliot laying, bleeding and unconscious, in the storage lot. Since they’d called an ambulance and Hardison had ridden with him to the nearest hospital. Since they’d found out that he’d broken three ribs, his wrist and his femur, and cracked his pelvis. Since the doctors rushed him into surgery to set his broken bones and put pins in his pelvis.

They brought him in with the alias Wayne Mcelroy, the alias from this current con who happened to have excellent insurance. 

“It’s been forever,” He continued, “But he’ll get through it. The doctor said he got through surgery with flying colors, and is already showing improvement.”

Nate had left as soon as Eliot was out of surgery. Hardison knew it wasn’t fair but he couldn’t help feeling angry at the man. He was probably just as pissed that they’d probably ruined the con as he was that some dick had dropped a ton of concrete blocks on top of Eliot.

Parker was shaken. Eliot was unconscious. Nate was obsessing and probably drunk. Sophie had run after Nate. Hardison was just worried. For everyone.

Parker and Hardison fell asleep against each other in the squeaky plastic chairs outside the ICU after 37 hours awake.

When they woke up an hour later and asked how their friend was doing, Eliot was gone.

•••

Hardison and Parker burst into Nate’s apartment.

“Nate, someone took Eliot.” Parker yelled. They both slid around in front of Hardison’s screens while he pulled up hospital security footage.

“What?” Sophie asked.

“They took him. We talked to the heads of staff and they said the people who took him claimed we took him to the closest hospital after the accident, but that he could be moved to his “primary care doctor” for recovery. Total bullshit. They took him.”

He pointed to the screen, where he pulled up men in EMT uniforms wheeling Eliot out on a gurney, an IV drip riding beside him. The video footage was blurry, and their hats blocked their faces, but Eliot’s was in plain sight. His brow was furrowed and shiny from sweat, his mouth set in a grimace even though it looked like he was still sleeping off the surgery.  
“Wouldn’t they have to get him to sign off on something for transport?”

“He was still under from the pain meds.” Hardison answered. “If I had to guess, these bastards probably hit him with something else to keep him out. They faked records in his name, wavers he supposedly signed.”

“Alright… alright. You know where they took him?” Nate asked.

“Not yet. We got a partial plate number before we lost them, I’m already running it.”

“Did they seem like they were after him for some past job or this one?”

“This one.” Parker butted in. “I recognized one of the goons.”

“So we’ll be expecting a call.” Nate determined.

“Ransom?” Sophie asked.

“If they still buy our aliases, maybe.” Nate answered. “If we’re blown, it might be blackmail. Information. Keeping us quiet.”

“And we’ll do it all, right?” Hardison asked suddenly, his voice hard. “We’ll give him everything he wants, right?”

“And what, just let him get away with it?” Parker exclaimed. “Give him whatever he wants and let him walk away?”

“This is Eliot’s life we’re talking about here, Parker.” Sophie tried to explain.

“I know! I can’t stop thinking about how much he - how much he hurt Eliot, and what he could do to him any minute, and I -“

“We play along,” Nate cut her off. “We play along till we get Eliot back, and then we’re going to bury all of them.”

Nate met each of his team’s eyes, kept contact levelly for a few seconds.

“We’ll get Eliot back safe.” He said eventually.

Hardison nodded. Parker took a big breath in, held it till she counted to three, and blew out. Sophie put her arms around both of them.

“What I need you to do is start over again, Hardison. Work this like a brand new case. Nickel’s got his hands in insurance cookie jars, which means he has his hands in medical administrations all around the city. I need you to find where Eliot’s been taken. Stay on the plates, stay on Nickels, stay focused. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Hardison said shortly. “I got it.” He turned back to the computer screens.


	2. In the hospital

The team jumped when Nate’s phone rang.

Nate waited a beat and then answered the phone on speaker.

“Hello,” He said.

“Mr. Connor.” A voice came through. So their aliases were all still in play. “Haven’t heard from you in the last few days. Busy?”

“You could say that,” Nate answered. The man on the other side of the line laughed.

“So listen, let’s stop playing around. It’s come to my attention that one of your people was terribly injured in an accident at one of my storage facilities. I have taken it upon myself to ensure he is well taken care of during his recovery.”

“Where is he, Nickels?” Nate asked tightly.

“No need to sound so concerned, Mr. Connor. He is honestly being given excellent medical attention, and will continue to receive it, as long as we are able to work out a few things. I’m sure we’ll be able to come to an agreement that will be satisfactory for both of us.”

Nate gave Hardison a look, and Hardison nodded. “Zeroing in on a location with the trace I got on his phone.” He murmured.

Nate mouthed “Good” before turning back to his conversation on the phone. “And what will you do if I don’t?” He asked.

“Wouldn’t be the best publicity for your hospital if word got out you tortured a severely injured man who’d come there for care.”

Nickels laughed. “Tortured? Oh Mr. Connor, this is a hospital, not a prison. Of course nothing like that would happen. But of course… He is at a terribly high risk of infection after such a hazardous surgery. Any number of unfortunate things can happen.”

“I’m listening.” Nate conceded.

“Excellent.” Nickels answered. “Preliminaries: I know you have been running a con on me, Mr. Connor. When you and your lovely lady friend fell off the grid two days ago, I checked my own sources for your company. The nonexistent one. I know you took the check I wrote your friend, and some sensitive information - volatile even, one might say - on a hard drive. I would like those returned to me, and my interest rate is… rather steep, I’m afraid.”

“Alright.” Nate said. “Give me a number, and I can get those organized. How is this going to go down?”

“5 million US dollars. I will give you till 2 PM tomorrow. At 2, Wayne here will be at the ER entrance of the Belview hospital with a sweet, accommodating nurse. You will give the nurse my money and hard drive, and you can take this gentleman back home with you.”

“I want proof of life. Live video at least. If he’s awake, I want to talk to him.”

“Well what do you know, he’s right here.” Nickels said. There was a pause, then slow, tightly controlled breathing.

“Wayne?” Nate asked, praying that Eliot was lucid enough to keep in character.

“Mr. Connor,” Eliot finally answered. Nate allowed himself a second of relief.

“You good?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Eliot answered. “Yes, sir.” He sounded wrecked, actually.

“They got guards on you?”

“Yeah.”

“Otherwise it’s a legitimate hospital?”

“Seems that way.”

“Alright. We’re coming for you. We’ll get you out of this.”

“Yeah,” Eliot said again, but his voice was softer this time.

“That enough for you, Mr. Connor?” Nickel’s voice came again.

“Yes.” A pause. “My people say you faked medical records for him. You work fast.”

“Yes, I do.” Nickels said simply.

“Until tomorrow, then.” And he hung up.

“Hardison, any way we can get a visual on Eliot?” He asked.

“No. Already tried. According to Belview Hospital records, he’s in room 203 in the recovery wing, but there are no cameras or t.v.’s. Not even a window.”

“Okay. Alright… Okay. Parker?”

“Yep, on it. Ear piece and a camera?”

“Yes. Constant surveillance. Nickels is slimy.”

Hardison pulled out one of his button cams and an extra ear piece, and Parker took them and headed out.

•••

In the hospital, Parker snuck down into the women’s locker room and snagged a pair of scrubs. Passing a nurse who was going off duty, she picked up her i.d. card and kept walking.

She found Eliot’s room, mostly by Hardison’s directions in her ear, and then judging by the beefy guard standing outside. He watched her as she approached.

She gave him a big smile, all teeth and squinty eyes.

“Mr. Mcelroy pushed his call button.” She explained. “Need to check on how he’s doing.”

“Alright.” The guard relented, stepping aside.

Parker went in, thinking it would probably be pushing her luck to try and close the door.

Eliot was laying on the bed in the corner, another bed empty beside him. He was hooked up to two iv’s and a catheter, and was blinking harshly like he’d just woken up. His leg was in a full cast, and there was a small one on his wrist. His skin was so pale.

“Parker?” He whispered, sounding surprised.

“Sh-“ She hissed. “Mr. Mcelroy,” She continued, comically loud. “How are we doing? Saw your call to the nurse’s station.” He nodded to show he understood.

“Shifted in my sleep, wondered if you could check my stitches? Hurts pretty bad.” He answered, trying to match her volume, though his voice was rough and cracked.

She walked around, climbed up on a chair and pushed the button cam into the corner facing Eliot’s bed till the adhesive took.

“That’s good, Parker,” Hardison said in her ear.

Then, she went back over to Eliot. He looked at her with a weak grin, and she wished she knew what he was thinking. She put his ear piece in his good hand and he put the thing in his ear, careful not to disturb the iv’s.

“Nope, looks like those stitches are fine,” She said loudly. “A little red, but you’re ok.”

“Thanks then,” Eliot answered. Parker impulsively put her hand on Eliot’s head, and petted his hair just once.

“We’ll get you out soon,” She whispered, and he nodded. “Rest well then, Mr. Mcelroy.” And her stage voice was back. She saluted the guard on her way out, and made her escape.

•••

Everything was still foggy for Eliot. Parker had come in in a blur, typical Parker fashion. He could still feel the ear piece and see the tiny camera in the corner so the visit wasn't a hallucination... this time.

A little portion of his mind, the one obviously still under the most influence of his pain medication, wished she would come back and keep playing with his hair. She was warm, and he was hurting, and - _woah. Shut the fuck up_.

He knew he needed to get out of that hospital as quickly as possible. He knew the situation he was in, and becoming a liability to the team was unacceptable, even if he had been unconscious most of the time. 5 million dollars and all the information they had worked so hard to get on this guy as a trade for _him_? No way. He needed a plan.

“You hear us, Eliot?” Hardison asked. “Don’t have to answer, just nod.”

Eliot nodded.

“Alright. We got him, Nate, Sophie.” Hardison announced.

“Great. Good to have you back online with us again, Eliot.” Nate called out. “We’re getting this all worked out.”

“You just rest, Eliot,” Sophie said. “Don’t worry about a thing.” Eliot nodded again, thought ' _yeah right_ ', and felt himself being pulled back under the influence of his pain medication.


	3. Dumbass escape plans

“Alright Nate,” Hardison called, and everyone came back to the island. “Nickels is on the medical board at three hospitals. All donor based. At Belview Hospital, though, he has a doctor in his pocket. Matthew Kells. He's been written in as Eliot’s primary care doctor. Kells has been out of fellowship for eight years, practiced in Nashville, Tennessee before moving to Portland. He… There are some discrepancies in some of his… Oh, I know how our man got Kells on his payroll.”

“What’ve you got?” Sophie asked.

“He’s been writing himself prescriptions for heavy narcotics using the names and pharmacies of his patients. He’s probably been skimming during surgeries, too.”

“Great, yeah, so our guy lets Doctor Kells get high on free prescription level drugs in exchange for the occasional favor. Ok, let’s put that on the back burner.” Nate said. “We can take care of our new favorite orthopedic surgeon soon enough.”

“Alright,” Parker snapped impatiently. “What are we going to _do_?”

Hardison grinned, and it was just sharp enough to be vicious. “I might have something.”

•••

They had been taking turns watching the monitor all night. Watching Eliot sleep felt weird at first, but no one was willing to leave him alone. 

Even though the situation was all kinds of fucked up, Hardison and Parker couldn’t help but notice how nice it was to watch the hitter sleep. Not… like, not in a creepy voyeuristic way, but just to watch him be still and relaxed. In spite of their circumstances, it was good to know he was getting rest.

Parker was dozing in front of the screens, her hand buried in a box of cereal she had been eating dry, when on screen, Eliot started to move. He started tugging at the IVs, and then the catheter, and then agonizingly slowly sitting up and scooting his legs around to hang off the side of the bed. Or, in the case of his casted foot, to stick out over the side of the bed.

There was a set of crutches in the corner that a nurse had brought by earlier to teach him how to use. He moved, clunky, over to them and stuck them both under his left armpit, leaving his casted hand free. Then he approached the doorway and peered around. Quick and sharp, he swung his broken hand out and smacked something (probably someone). He grunted, tight lipped, through the pain and staggered for a moment before righting himself.

Eliot’s grunt alerted Parker who shot back up at the table. 

“What?” She asked, tuning back in just in time to watch Eliot disappear around the corner. When she realized what he was doing, she yelled, “ELIOT?!” And heard disgruntled muttering before his com went silent. “NO, Eliot -“ She yelled again, but it was too late.

Hardison sprinted into the room when he heard Parker yell, and stopped, staring blankly at the screen.

“What,” He asked, “Did they take him? Where did they take him, Parker? Did they find his com?”

Parker growled and slapped her hands against the counter top. “ _No_ , they didn’t take him. He’s trying to escape. And he lost his com.”

“What? What?... The hell?” Hardison asked. “ _Damn_ it.” He sat himself down heavily at the counter, fingers hovering aimlessly over the keyboard. “Well, did he lose the com, or did he just take it out? I mean, surely he didn’t just toss it.”

“I don’t know,” Parker answered. “It’s Eliot. I don’t know.”

In any case, Hardison pulled up the tracking information on the com. It was still functioning, and at the hospital, at least. Hardison just started praying that Eliot had been enough in his right mind to keep the com with him. 

“This lunatic’s going to kill himself,” Hardison mumbled. He meant it as a joke, maybe, but panic had swollen to about the size of a golf ball in the back of his throat.

“That’s not funny, Alec.” Parker said softly.

“I know, mama. I know.” He answered.

•••

Eliot leaned on his crutches at one corner and allowed himself a brief moment to close his eyes and focus on breathing. His com was clutched loosely in his hand - he didn't have any pockets, but Parker shouting in his ear had set his head off into a dizzy spell of white lights and he knew he couldn't put the com back in if he was going to do what he needed to.

The ICU of this hospital was busy enough that he had been able to slip by, mostly unseen, after snagging a long robe to block a proper view of his leg. He felt hot, and a pain that felt very far away from most of his injuries, but he was also still in a pain medication haze. Most of his memory, also, was currently lost in fog.

Getting out was priority. Just get out. People were walking past but he couldn’t focus on any of them. He shook his head to clear his vision and get stringy hair out of his face, and then veered around and continued down the hallway. His mind wandered again and he began to lilt, until he clipped his hip on a wheelchair that had been pushed aside before someone’s room. The ache of that pain tore through him and he swung to a stop. In the midst of it all, he opened his hand to prepare himself for a fall and he dropped the com. It bounced and skidded out of his sight, getting lost in the speckled tiles on the floor.

_Focus_ , he thought, _god_ ** _damm_** _it_. 

Thankfully, he was on the first floor and finally found a service entrance. He slid out into an alley, and just kept walking.


End file.
